On the coldest day so far…

(Don’t let the sunshine fool you – it’s cold here. Loving my new bowls, Sally!)

I’m back to getting up early and if I managed it this morning I’ll manage it anytime. It was freezing in the van. The thermometer said 3 degrees so I suppose technically that’s not freezing but you know what I mean.

(Low flying fog)

Fortunately we had the free electricity so I turned on the electric heater along with the fan heater. Then a funny thing happened. The temperature outside went down…as far as 1.2 degrees. I thought the temperature could only go up once it was morning… no I really did. But the sun wasn’t up yet so there was no possibility of a bit of heat from outside. Fortunately inside was getting toasty. I’ve run out of celery, sadly but I had some lemon and hot water instead and set about writing.

(I’m guessing it says no entry?)

I’m reading a very interesting book at the moment called Can’t Hurt Me it’s by a guy called David Goggins. He’s a Navy Seal, that’s the US Navy’s elite forces. Men who go through really really tough training to be the best in their field. I’m sort of surprised I like his book, he’s a tough guy but very inspirational at the same time.

(Early morning sun on the church in Guitiriz)

He talks about pushing through pain and doubt when he was training to be an elite runner, that’s running 100 miles or more in a race that lasts 24 hours! That’s 4 marathons! With no sleep!

(Sun!)

I’ll probably never (I mean I’ll definitely never) be running 100 mile/24 hour races like he has but he does make me think I could do more than I am. Remember I was considering going back to the couch to 5km running? Well I had only just considered that when I spotted his book. Coincidence? Maybe not…

(More fog… )

But it’s not just about running. I often have great ideas for making art and selling it and writing books and publishing them but something always stops me. Pain and doubt stop me. I’m not talking physical pain. This is emotional pain and it’s embarrassing to admit that.

(Back to Foz for another breath of fresh air)

Emotional pain starts with a mean little voice. The little voice says things like, you’re just not very good, that’s been done before by someone else who is far better than you, you don’t know how it’s done, you’re embarrassing yourself.

(Fluffy clouds and cute flowers)

By the time you realise it’s just some random thoughts in your head the doubt has set in and you’re asking yourself why would I put myself through this pain? And if you have no reason you will stop putting yourself through the pain.

(My favourite cow in Cóbreces – she lifted her chin to give me a closeup of her bell)

In his book this Navy Seal guy says the same thing happened each time he was in physical pain in the almost impossible training he goes through and if he didn’t have an answer to that why do I put myself through this? question he’d have given up every time. The why question lasts a moment but without a good answer it leads to the giving up. A good answer, your own good reason to put yourself through the pain can allow you to keep going.

(A very narrow bridge in the village with narrow lanes – Lanestosa)

So I tried it this morning on the coldest day so far. Why am I putting myself through the pain of getting out of a warm bed when I could just snuggle back down and no one would ever know?

Because I want to teach myself how to have the beautiful behaviours I really, really want. Mairead.

Nice cow

(Isn’t she adorable? All the cows have horns here. She seemed very friendly. The sound of her bell kept us company all day)

We are continuing our journey along northern Spain… slowly. We’ve reduced the driving time to an hour so Denis can work as normal. And we are zig zagging across the motorway (not as dangerous as it sounds) to spend a night near the sea followed by a night in the hills.

(There was an old graveyard near our stop with these pretty flowers just growing wild)

So last night was near the sea. 1.5km from the sea to be exact. We took down the bikes at 5pm and it was a lovely, mainly downhill, ride to the cliffs. Of course when it’s downhill on the way out it’s always uphill on the way back but we managed. We kept ourselves going by remembering the fitness goal might be getting closer.

(Beautiful view at the end of a short bicycle ride)

One of the new routines I started at New Year was drinking celery juice on an empty stomach first thing in the morning. I was very attracted to its benefits. It’s a bit of a palaver washing the stalks, chopping them, mashing them in the blender and then straining the mush through a sieve bag but any habit gets easier if you keep going. I checked with Denis before we left that the solar power battery would be up to the job of running the blender and he answered in the affirmative. We’ve been married long enough for me to realise that yes definitely doesn’t always mean yes definitely to the question you just asked. In this case it meant yes definitely that might work…

(Doesn’t that look like a face on the cliff?)

Now we’re here and I have a blender taking up space in the cupboard and three bunches of celery (from Spain via Tesco Greystones…) taking up space in the fridge with no way of bringing the two together to make juice. I’m lying, whenever we are hooked up to external electricity I can run the blender. This morning we were hooked up and I washed, chopped and began to blend. That’s when I realised how loud a blender is and how thin our walls are and how many people were sleeping around us in their thin walled vans. Maybe it was just about bringing the celery home.

To Spain, I mean. Mairead.

(There we are just west of Santander in a town called Cóbreces. €12 got us parking, electricity, WiFi, toilet and shower)

Kerrygold, Ballymaloe and fried brain

(Cute natural arch in front of the church)

We are making great progress considering how we dawdled at the Le Mont. But between the clock change and the new routine my brain is fried. So it is great to have a little bit of normality in the fridge. I know it sounds crazy considering we’re travelling to get an experience of different. Different places, different people, different languages, and different foods. That will start when the butter runs out so for now it’s ham and coleslaw rolls with lashings of butter and a dollop of Ballymaloe.

(We brought some Ireland with us…)

We left Mont St Michel around 11am yesterday and travelled all day down the west coast to a small town between Niort and Bordeaux. The town was called Saint-Genis-De-Saintonge. Our car park for the night was beside the cinema and our payment included parking, 4 hours of electricity, 10 minutes of water and one free entry to the movie! The movie was called Le Chat du Loup and there was a picture of a submarine on the poster. It was probably in French but if there had been a picture of a garden and a picnic I might have been tempted. I didn’t mention the submarine to Denis, I just said it was about a cat and didn’t sound very interesting. He likes submarine movies. Best he not know.

(French is a tricky language…)

I have a great plan to set my alarm for 6am while we’re travelling. Actually, setting the alarm is the easy part, getting up when the alarm goes off is a bit more difficult… Not helped by the time difference in France. I’ve been trying to explain it to Denis that 6am turned into 5am. (He’s happy with his 8am alarm.) To top it all the daylight savings means this morning my 5am became 4am. Hang on what am I saying, maybe this is why my brain is fried. New plan: no alarm, wake naturally.

I’ll let you know, Mairead.

(Yellow dot at the bottom of this map is where we stayed)

Camping Car Park: Saint-Genis-De-Saintonge.

GPS: 45.483055 -0.566322

Cost: €7 includes electricity, water, cinema

Le Mont

(Le Mont St Michel. Sun was just gone down)

We arrived at Beauvoir (means beautiful view) last night about ten minutes before sunset. Beauvoir is a motor home site within walking distance of Mont St Michel. We plugged in the electricity and took a brisk walk to get a view of Le Mont before it got too dark.

(The front door!)

I love this place. From a distance. Up close. Or walking on the ramparts. There’s something aesthetically pleasing everywhere you look. And the place just feels good too. You do have to pay way more for your coffee and croissant but you’re eating in a cathedral.

(Main street)

After the quick walk we went back to the van and Denis cooked dinner while I finished yesterday’s blog. I was asleep before 10pm.

(Breakfast)

Then this morning we walked all the way to the free bus (2.5km) and were walking through the gate by 9am. We had our breakfast – takeaway Nespresso machine americano and croissant. And it’s yum because we’re here and sometimes when you think a place is great it doesn’t matter how the coffee’s made!

See you tomorrow, Mairead.

(The van water is free when you stay the night. That box in front is for emptying the toilet casette…)

Motor Home Parking Details: Aire de Camping Car de Mont St.Michel, Beauvoir.

GPS coordinates: 48.593295 -1.512965

Overnight: €13.50 includes water and electricity

And…. We’re Off!

(From Greystones to…)

It’s an absolutely beautiful day here in Ireland and we are on our travels again! It’s a bit later this year because last March we missed the snow in Ireland, so we waited to see what all the excitement was all about. Getting stuck on the motorway a few weeks ago returning from a visit to Cork in a snowstorm cleared everything up for me – I don’t actually like snow.

(Our car park near Wexford)

But today there is no snow and the sun is shining in a big blue sky. As usual we begin our adventure in a car park. (I know that doesn’t sound very adventurous but the surprising thing is you can have an adventure anywhere, including your own backyard. Really, you can!) This car park is just outside Wexford, about 20 minutes from the ferry port. We are (Denis and I) sucking up the last of the Irish mobile data. Although we are so very very grateful for the roaming data we get free on our travels, it is a much smaller amount than we get at home. Unlimited data in Ireland versus 8Gbytes (pronounced 8 gigabites) a month travelling. I don’t really understand how much data that is, I just know it’s not unlimited. So I’m already thinking I’ll be a bit limited.

(Work in progress… aren’t we all!)

Will I be able to look at the pretty pictures on instagram? Probably not. Will I be able to answer comments on Facebook? Probably not. Will I be able to send blog posts to the website and Facebook? Yes. Will I be able to read emails? Yes. Will I be able to answer emails? Yes. Email me if you want to get the blog posts directly into your email and I’ll set that up for you. So, not completely limited then. I’ll still be connected. Sometimes my thinking can limit me more that the Giggas (that’s what I call my 8Gbytes to make them like me and stretch as bit farther…)

(Art supplies donated by the Irish sea)

We will sail at 8.30pm tonight (Thursday) and arrive at approximately 4pm on Friday in Cherbourg, France. We have decided our first night stop will be Mont Saint Michel, about an hour away. And this makes me so happy. I love Mont Saint Michel. Just seeing it in the distance makes me feel so happy. It used to be an island when the tide was out but now they have built a bridge and there’s a free bus (or you can walk) right to the gates of the town. So you can visit all day every day. It may close at night, I’m not sure. Anyway, that’s where we’ll be on Friday night and Saturday morning. That’s all we know for now.

Wherever we end up my plan is to write to you everyday. I have a couple of projects too and I will share them with you as they happen, in the meantime from my car park adventure to yours big hugs, Mairead.

Inspiration from home

(Colours on a grey day in Argentan after Grahame)

We are making our way to the ferry via the Loire and now we have reached Normandy. All the time the weather is getting colder. The little indicator on the gas bottle was in the red yesterday morning. That was sooner than usual because we’re turning the dial way up on the heating. It’s only seems like last Tuesday we were opening all the windows to generate a draft powerful enough to lift the net curtains.

(Huge moon last night)

As well as the temperature decreasing, the brightness is decreasing. We had fog today for most of the 90 minute journey but then joy, the road stretched upwards through the clouds and we were in sunshine again.

(Path through the woods at Château Sully)

My sister has two great friends, Doris and Grahame, from the time she lived in Toronto, Canada and this week they are visiting Ireland. They have no fear of cold weather – their thermometers go much further down than ours in winter – so of course they are visiting in October. Anyway, I have been noticing the pictures they are taking of their visit – especially as they are visiting my home town – and they are beautiful. I would never go around taking pictures at home like I do here… why not?

(Couldn’t resister another photo from the Canal de Bourgogne, at sunrise)

Today walking back from a French lunch in the grey light, I was inspired by Grahame’s picture of a door in Cashel, to take a picture of a similar door here. Grahame has definitely inspired me to take pictures in my own town, maybe if I go at sunrise no one will see me? As well as that the sunlight, or lack of it – what I would normally call a grey day – makes the colours in the subject pop. That’s a good thing.

(Last of the leaves at Autun)

We get used to the beautiful things around us and stop noticing them until someone from outside comes along and points them out. We get used to calling a perfectly grand day a grey day – meaning it insultingly. We get used to noticing what’s annoying or irritating when there’s lots to see that’s interesting and inspiring.

Thanks, Grahame! Mairead.

Châteauneuf-en-Auxois

(Can you see the hedges zigzagging up to the château? That’s the road)

On Thursday morning after breakfast I left our spot beside the river to climb to the château. It was cold, about 8 degrees but the sun was shining. We were going to do French lunch again as the cupboards were still bare so I needed to be back by 12.30pm. the walk according to google would take 37 minutes, it was now 9.24am. I thought the 37 minutes might be a little optimistic so I was allowing myself an hour to walk up, another to walk down, leaving me with a visit of an hour. In the end google was very close and in spite of my puffing and panting and my stops to take pictures the climb up took exactly 40 minutes!

(Sigh…)

It was such a beautiful walk too, I still feel it now. The slight chill in the air. The colours of the trees. The ducks floating in the canal. The cows eating the grass. After eleven minutes I reached the end of my journey along the canal and had to start on the road that I could see zigzagging towards the château. As I climbed higher the sun felt hot on my back. The gentle walk along the towpath behind me I was pulling myself up the slope. There was the sound of the birds and a distant hum of traffic and something else – my heavy breathing. Fortunately there was no one around I needed to impress.

(Isn’t this seedpod beautiful? The road in the background leads to the canal)

The first manmade structure I came to was the château wall with a wooden door, into the garden, I guessed. The door was locked and there was no indication whether I should go left or right around the wall. By now, 10.04am, the sun was beating down and there was no shade and even an extra few meters in the wrong direction seemed painful. I went right and I was climbing again. But it was a good choice as I was heading into the village of Châteauneuf. From below it’s not clear that there’s a village up here but there is and it’s incredibly pretty. I passed one of the Logis chain of hotels, a pizza restaurant, guest houses and a man charging electric bicycles for hire. I wondered if I should try to negotiate a one way trip back to the canal later.

(Oh look someone seems to have ordered coffee and cake… with cream)

There was also a cafe with tables and chairs outside, you know the ones that look French? Made of metal and circular and painted green. It was open. Having made such good timing and having used up possibly a cake full of calories I went along in and had a coffee and cake…. yes it was only just gone 10am (9am in Ireland…)

(Looking out the gate of the château into the village)

Fortified, I went along into the château and paid €5 for my ticket, well worth it especially for the story of the wife and the sugar dusted flans… So it was the Friday before St. Andrew’s Day in 1450 (or thereabouts) and Catherine of Châteauneuf put some sugar dusted flans on the window seat. (The sugar dusting seems to be important.) Her husband sits down to eat and disaster… he dies shortly after. Also dead is a young servant, Mariote. Everyone thinks Catherine put arsenic into the tarts to poison her husband, no one seems too upset about Mariote. Catherine ends up in jail and someone else gets the château. I don’t think she did it but if I’d known the story earlier I might have skipped the cake.

(I forgot to include the map last time… the red marker is where we were parked by the Canal de Bourgogne. Thanks google maps )

I spent an hour going around the rooms and buildings and then started back down, noting how much easier it is to walk down a hill than up.

I’m still wondering about Catherine and the flans, Mairead.

Besançon

(This way to the tourist office..)

This is a really interesting town! So this morning after coffee at a place just 2 minutes from our aire I went off in search of the tourist office. I couldn’t find it on my phone (in google maps) so I had to go back to the old way – following signs.

(And here are the opening hours of the tourist office)

The sign pointed along by the river so I walked that way. Then it pointed over the bridge so I walked that way, then there were no other signs. None. I was now in what seemed to be a business area. The next sign I saw pointed to the citadel, oh no…. what if the only tourist office was the one at the citadel… at the top of the hill? Why didn’t I ask when I was there yesterday?

(There’s a fountain on the river called Minotaur)

Well, I don’t know about you but this kind of talk is very familiar to me and not at all helpful… it starts with a doubt and then a bit of blame and criticism of something that happened yesterday! Too late, internal voice!

(Lovely reflections from the river)

So I stopped walking. Turned around and walked back to the last sign, the one before the citadel one. On the way I saw another sign, I’d missed before. This one was pointing back over to the other side of the river. But how can that be right? I was on that side when I followed the sign to this side.

(Oh… on the way back from the tourist office I noticed the sign I had mis-read earlier… the top part says there are no pedestrian crossings on the road ahead. The second sign says to take this little path under the bridge to the tourist office. I thought it meant turn right over the bridge. Mystery solved!)

Ok this is also familiar… questioning why I got it wrong…. Later I did find out that I am only learning to read French signs and sometimes I mis-read them… But in the moment I don’t need to question why I got it wrong, the best thing I can do is, follow the sign and carry on. Oh and Be Quiet internal critic voice!

(Very nice view from inside the tourist office)

And that’s how I found the tourist office. And they were great, free WiFi, loads of information, brochures and a recommendation to go on a boat trip!

(Cute chess set in the tourist office based on the citadel)

So I went on another boat trip! And there were locks! Two of them. One manual and one automatic! And a tunnel! …under the citadel! Yes, I went under the citadel in a boat. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow!

From the sunny, not stormy, east of France, Mairead.

Galette, Butterfly and Bee

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(This crêpere has had a licence to trade since 1941 – that was during the second world war!)

It’s Sunday and a travel day for us. We are still on route to see Nancy and have arrived in another pretty aire. I tell you about it tomorrow but I have photos to share from yesterday for now. It was lunch time when we left the zoo so we decided to do what the French do – have lunch. By that I mean have our main meal in the middle of the day and since we had saved on the cost of entry to the zoo we were practically getting that for free too… does it show that I never did accountancy?

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(I love the blue)

The cafe I called into on the previous day was also a crepére so we stopped there and had a look at the menu. One of the galettes (which is a wholemeal flour savoury pancake) that caught my eye was called La Bray Normandie with apple, Neufchâtel, ham and mushrooms. I wondered aloud what Neufchâtel might be and a young girl sitting at the table beside us told me! I couldn’t help overhearing, it’s a cheese, local to Normandy and it’s produced in the shape of a heart! I love hearts!

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(Here’s the butterfly)

Our translator was from Bulgaria with perfect English and as far as I would recognise, perfect French. She has been living and working in Paris for the past five years. She and her boyfriend love this area of Normandy are were on a visit for the weekend. She described Neufchâtel cheese saying it was like camembert but not as strong and when her lunch came she offered a taste of her boyfriends cheese sauce because it was camembert… and it was good. Her boyfriend was French (and very generous with his chips and cheese sauce) and had visited Connemara. He loved it and of course we told them how much we loved France.

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(…and a bee)

And when my galette arrived it was the best I’ve ever had. The apple was slightly mushy and brown and it worked perfectly with the cheese and ham and mushrooms and the pancake itself wasn’t too dry or too thick, it was just right. I didn’t stop eating until there was nothing left on my plate.. so no picture. (Reminder to self: take a pause to savour your lunch.)

I’ll be looking out for that Neufchâtel in the shape of a heart, Mairead.